by Evie Monroe
“How could it get much worse than this, Mom?” I cried, as he lunged for me again, and I faked off to the side. “And Slade, don’t blame us for going against you. Blame yourself. You did this, by being an asshole. I hope you rot in hell!”
He grabbed for me again, but I raced around the table. I could do this all day, if he wanted. He might have been a killer, with arms that could easily pummel me, but he had to catch me first. And he couldn’t. He was older, his body broken down from drinking and drugs and who knows what else he’d done. I could sense his growing frustration and I reveled in it. I wanted to knock him off guard, make him feel even one-tenth of the way we felt, living with him in this hell house for all these years. When I caught his eyes next, they were full of fire.
I grinned smugly at him as he reached for me again, and I skipped around the table, just out of his reach. Growling, he shoved the table to the side and advanced on me.
I turned to run into the house, when I was stopped by the smallest but most frightening of sounds.
The sound of a gun, being cocked.
Grinding to a halt, I whirled, to see my father standing there, his gun trained on me. He was breathing hard, a slow smirk spreading over his face. “Cait. Why don’t you stop running?” he asked calmly. “Sit your ass over here by your mom, and I’ll tell you how things are going to go, from now on.”
I had no choice.
Slowly, I walked toward him. He lifted a chair from the dining set and sat it next to my mother’s. He motioned for me to sit. When I did, unable to meet his eyes, his callused hand came around and gripped my face so hard, crushing my cheeks, I thought he’d break my jaw. He lifted my face and stared into my eyes with his own, ice-cold ones. “You little slut,” he ground out. “Listen good. You’re gonna get what’s coming to you. Right about now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Drake
Cullen and the men called after me, but I didn’t wait. I needed to get there fast. They might follow me, or they might not, but it didn’t matter. I had enough rage in me to end Slade ten times over on my own. I gunned it down the highway toward Slade’s house, with nothing but complete destruction on my mind.
Rides usually calmed me down, but this one only made me more pissed off, raring to tear Slade’s head from his body and piss on it.
That damn fucking lucky son-of-a-bitch. I should’ve known he was too lucky to be at that clubhouse. He sure lived a charmed life.
And I was ready to end it tonight.
If he touched one hair on her head, if he so much as breathed in her direction, I’d fucking destroy him.
I clenched my fists around the handlebars, my jaw tight and my muscles straining. I arrived at her street, then cut the engine on my bike and coasted to a stop, going into stealth mode. I parked my bike on the street and hurried to Cait’s house. When I got a few houses away, I saw a bike parked outside. Slade’s bike.
I silently texted Cullen 22 West Haven before I reached behind me into the waistband of my jeans and pulled out my piece. Ducking between the cars, I crossed the street, looking for signs of his men. But I didn’t see any. He was here alone. Fine. I’d face him even. Man to man. No, I couldn’t even call him a man. No man would hurt a woman like that. He was a fucking monster.
Stooping down behind the bushes, I looked through the window. The curtains were drawn in the front room, but there was a light in the living room. As I crouched down, gauging my next move, I heard a man’s voice, booming through the open screen door at the side of the house.
Slade. That asshole.
I crossed the driveway, passed his bike, and pressed myself against the wall. I heard furniture moving. A woman’s voice. She sounded terrified. That had to be Roxanne. Then Slade’s voice again. Gripping my gun, without making a sound, I lifted the latch on the door, and slowly made my way inside, silently closing the door behind me.
I heard footsteps, the sound of people moving around, and then Cait’s voice. If she was afraid of her father, she didn’t sound like it. She was holding her own. “Don’t blame us for going against you. Blame yourself. You did this, by being an asshole!”
More movement. Slade was growling. Footsteps on the floor. Then I heard the sound of a gun being cocked, and Slade’s voice, low and in control. I bent forward so I could get a better look, gripping my gun tighter. Then I saw them. Slade advancing upon Cait, grabbing her cheeks in one big hand, squeezing them. His back was to me, and Cait’s face was pale. There was fear in her eyes, now.
And she was bleeding. There was blood on her chin and the front of her shirt.
That was it. I was going to kill him.
I slid in closer and lifted my gun, aiming it in his direction. I leveled it, but a few inches off, and I’d end up shooting Cait. Cocking one eye to draw a bead on my target, I fixed both hands on the gun and waited for my chance.
He lifted his gun to her head, pressing the barrel of it into her temple.
And I knew I couldn’t wait much more. I’d never fucking shot my piece at anyone before. Do it, I told myself. Kill him.
But Cait was too close. I couldn’t risk it.
I sucked in a breath, wiped the sweat out of my eyes, and strained my arms forward, tightening my finger on the trigger.
Come on, you bastard. Give me a clean shot.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Caitlyn
I didn’t start to get scared until my father cocked the gun, grabbed me, and brought the cold steel of the barrel to my temple. My daddy was usually calm, even while he was making heads roll. But the rage in his eyes was unbelievable, even to me. His face was red, his mouth twisted, jaw clenched, and the veins on his temple bulged out. He was losing his self-control.
Until that moment, I’d still held out hope that my daddy was still alive in there. Alive but buried under a grizzled, hardened shell.
But when he grabbed my face and looked at me like that, like he truly wanted to end my life, I knew my father was truly dead.
There wasn’t hate in his eyes. His eyes were black, lifeless, cold, unfeeling. The hate was everywhere else. Every other part of his body screamed that he hated me.
And I knew this monster in front of me wouldn’t stop until I was dead.
My body gave out at that moment. If my father hadn’t had his callused, squeezing grip on my face, my knees would’ve given out on me, and I would’ve collapsed to the floor. I shook as he held me, those dark eyes didn’t care. He was beyond caring. In fact, I think he was happy that he’d reduced me to a trembling mass of jelly.
Satisfied, he removed the gun from my forehead. He pushed me back, onto a chair near my mom, and when I slumped down, feeling the first threads of hopelessness settle in as I listened to my mother’s quiet sobs beside me, I saw him.
Drake. He was pressed against the wall, in the shadows off the laundry room. He put a finger to his lips. I saw the gun in his hand, pointed at Slade’s head.
Hope reignited deep inside me. I quickly looked up at Slade so that I wouldn’t give Drake’s position away.
Slade asked, “You don’t look so sure of yourself now, Cait, huh?” He laughed, low and deep, kicking my foot with his boot. “You must’ve known this was gonna happen if you played with fire. You really think fucking all those Cobras was worth it?”
I gritted my teeth. I had to stall for time until Drake could make his move. But I could barely think. “I knew you wouldn’t actually shoot me,” I said, surprised that my voice didn’t crack. My thighs were trembling, and I had to sit on my hands to keep them from shaking. “We’re more valuable to you than you realize. We help your club, admit it.”
He laughed again. “Oh, yeah? How do you help me with my club, let me ask you that?” He shook his head and pointed at my mother. “She’s been nothing but a pain in my ass since I said I do, and you’ve been nothing but a pain since you were born, girl. I can easily get rid of you both, and smile while I’m doing it.”
“And you think the police will let you just w
alk away?” I asked. He always liked it when I was tough, when I challenged him. So I wouldn’t let him see that I was terrified. I’d challenge him, now, even if I ended up getting killed because of it. “Face it. You can’t kill us. No matter how much you hate us.”
He laughed and leaned back against the refrigerator. “Maybe that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
I shook my head and wiped the blood from my chin. “Doubt it. But I meant what I said. I can help you.”
He gave me a doubtful look. “All right, darlin’. I’m listening. You tell me how, if you’re so smart.”
“Well, why do you think I was hanging around the Cobras? I’ve been in their clubhouse. I have information on them that you’d never get yourself, no matter how many bombs you sent them.” I grinned sadistically, mirroring the way he was looking at me. “You really think your men could get where I’ve been?”
He blinked, then rubbed his salt and pepper stubble. “That might be true. But don’t give me this shit that that’s the only reason you went over there. I know you too well, Cait. You just wanted to rile me up, baby with that little gang bang of yours. And it worked.”
I smiled. “It wasn’t a gang bang, daddy. Sure, I flirted with them. Sure, I had fun with them. And even if I had other reasons for going over there, in the end, I’m still Fury.” I leaned over and lifted my camisole, baring the tattoo on my lower back. “I promise. I won’t ever forget that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Damn straight, you are. And you’d better not.”
“So . . .” I gnawed on my lip and said in my most sassy voice. “I might have met one that likes me. That’ll do anything for me. All I have to do is say the word, and he’ll give me anything I ask for.” I held up my pinky. “He’s wrapped around my finger.”
He grabbed a chair and straddled it. “That so? He knows who you are?”
I nodded. “That’s the best part. He’s so whipped, he doesn’t even care.”
He raised one eyebrow. “You gotta be shitting me. Really? Hell girl, you’re good. Who is this asshole?”
I didn’t want to say his name. Even though it was all a lie, it felt like I was betraying him. So I just shrugged and gave a coy, “I forget. He’s not very bright. So it was pretty easy to get him following me around like a puppy, hanging on my every word.” My body trembled, and it took all the control I had to keep it rigid as he studied me. “So what would you like to know? I can give you the scoop on all their business dealings. Just ask.”
He draped his arms over the back of the chair and rested his chin on them, still holding the gun. What was Drake waiting for? I guessed that he was concerned that if he missed, Slade would fire his gun at one of us. But there was only so much bluffing I could do. At least it seemed like my father was buying it.
“I guess,” my father said carefully, “I’d like to know who the hell smoked out our clubhouse in the foothills. Burned it to the ground, not an hour ago. You happen to know anything about that?”
My eyes widened. “No. I don’t. Was anyone hurt?” I asked, feigning concern.
He leaned closer, so I could feel his breath, warm on my face. It stunk of beer. He said, “That little place of ours was so hidden, some of our own guys had trouble finding it. So I think someone had to tell them where that clubhouse was.”
My heart caught in my throat.
He inspected his fingernails, which were caked in black grease. His knuckles were knobby and covered with white hair, the tops of his hands pockmarked from all the riding he’d done in the sun over the years. Then he looked back at me. I looked down, between my thighs, which were covered in goosebumps.
“Someone who’s been very close to the Fury, I think.” He reached over and walked a finger up my bare knee. He had to have seen the way my skin was reacting to him. Then he put a finger under my chin and forced my head up, so I had no choice but to look at him. “You.”
My mother let out a whimper. “You didn’t, did you?”
I shook my head. “No! I didn’t. I’m telling you, I didn’t tell them a thing about the Fury. They didn’t even know who I was.”
“Don’t give me that, Cait. You’ve been MIA for nearly a week, and I find out you’ve been shacking up with the Cobras. And then our clubhouse blows? That’s not a coincidence. That’s cause and effect. So something tells me you’ve been playing the wrong side. All that intelligence you’ve been trying to get for the Fury? How many of our secrets have you been telling them?”
“No!” I begged. “I promise you, it wasn’t me!”
Without warning, he reached his hand around the back of my neck and yanked on my ponytail, lifting me up and pulling me to standing. “That’s it! You think I won’t shoot you? Bitch! You’re dead wrong about that. You should know by now, I’ve come across a lot of traitors in my life. And I don’t let traitors live.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Drake
Slade was sitting directly in front of Cait now, his back to me, and he kept moving around, so I couldn’t get off a good shot without possibly hitting one of the women, too. He kept slipping out of view. I stood there for a few minutes, and each time I thought I had him, he’d move.
If I’d had Jet with me, or one of the other guys, this would’ve been over by now. My brothers were always more courageous when it came to taking someone out. Me? I was careful. Probably because I’d studied in med school all the damage a single bullet could do to the human body.
The wind had stilled, and the night had turned infernally hot. I sucked in a breath, wiped the sweat from my eyes. I focused in on the back of Slade’s head. I wanted to get one clean shot, because I didn’t want him to have the ability to retaliate and shoot either of the girls.
Cait was doing a good job at buying time. She was getting him off his guard, too. His posture had loosened, and his voice had softened.
Then, without warning, he reached out, grabbed the back of Cait’s ponytail, and pulled her to her feet. He spat in her ear something about her being a traitor.
Shit.
I needed to act now. I got a clear shot, right at his head, when I heard the sound of bikes pulling up. Through the side door, I caught a glimpse of Cullen and Jet. Great, they got the text.
They’d all come to back me up. I let out a curse under my breath as Slade stilled, hearing the commotion outside. His eyes trailed to the front of the house, and then landed on me. He yanked Cait to him as a shield and fired a round. Roxanne screamed. Pain rocketed through my shoulder.
I stormed forward and took Roxanne’s arm, pulling her up. “Cait. Come on!” I shouted, shoving Roxanne into the living room. We dove behind a couch as I heard the rest of the Cobras yelling outside. When I looked up, I realized that Cait hadn’t gotten away. Slade had her locked in his arms. I pointed my gun over the top of the sofa, directly at his head, but now Cait was his shield. “Slade. It’s over. Let her go or you’re dead!”
Right then, the Cobras slammed into the front and side doors, waving their guns. “Let her go, Slade!” Cullen called, advancing through the living room.
Slade laughed and pointed the gun at her temple again. But Cait was right. He wouldn’t shoot his daughter.
Instead, he quickly turned the gun on the Cobras and started to shoot, wildly, like this was his last stand and he knew it. I knew the son of a bitch would go out laughing.
Before he could get far, though, Cullen got off a shot, hitting him straight between the eyes. As he slumped, letting go of Cait, she disentangled herself from him and ran to me. I took her in my arms as the men went over to Slade’s body.
Roxanne, frantically sobbing, repeated, “Is he dead? Is he dead?”
I nodded and pushed Cait’s hair out of her eyes. “Are you all right?”
She barely nodded, she was so dazed. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s . . .”
She couldn’t say the word.
I lifted her chin up and gazed at her, rubbing the dried blood from her chin. Her cheek was swollen. �
�You all right?”
But she just trembled, unable to speak. She was going into shock. I reached for a blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around her, then looked at her mom. “You all right?”
She nodded, hugging herself. “Is he dead? Is my husband dead?”
“Yeah. He is,” I said somberly, as she wrapped her arms around her daughter.
Suddenly I heard a commotion in the living room. It was Nix. “Shit. Jet. Shit. Hold tight.”
I sprang to my feet and saw Jet, lying in the center of the living room. He’d taken a bullet in the stomach, and blood was seeping out of the massive wound onto the carpet. His face was pale, and he was breathing in rasps. He coughed, which ended up coming out as a weak laugh. “This . . . fucking . . . sucks,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Shit,” I said, diving over the couch and crouching over him. “Jet. Don’t talk. Listen to me. Stay here. You’re going to be okay.”
“Where’s your kit?” he said. He had to have meant it as a joke. I didn’t have anything in my kit that could take care of this. He needed to get to the hospital.
He let out a gurgling noise and his head fell back. His eyes closed.
I turned to see all the other Cobras standing over him. “Fuck!” I said, falling back on my backside and vising my head in my hands. Jet was the king of drama, but he was in bad shape. You didn’t have to be a doctor to see that. Yeah, he could be a pain in the ass, but he was my best friend. And if anything happened to him . . . fuck.
“Call 911,” Roxanne said behind me, covering her mouth with both hands. “Oh, my God.” Cait hugged her tight, and they sobbed together.
I took his piece from his hand and pocketed it. “Come on!” I called to the other guys, who were standing around, watching Jet die. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital. Let’s go.”
Police sirens began to wail outside, and Cullen sprang into action. “All right, guys. We can’t be here. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
